by Evans, Misty
Brushing dirt from my hands, I ignored the purposeful misuse of my name. “What are you doing in my dream?”
“Dream?” His laughter cut through the heavy air between us. “You think Michael is a dream? I don’t know what planet you’re from, but where I come from, he’s a freakin’ nightmare.”
A chill slipped over my skin and I gathered the robe closer. “Michael?” I glanced over my shoulder, some part of me still waiting for the chainsaw guy to appear. “As in the archangel Michael?”
“Real peach, ain’t he?”
Damn. “What is this place, Zayfeer? Why am I here?”
The church steps reversed themselves and became stairs once more. Zayfeer took another drag from his cigarette and sauntered down toward me.
“This?” He extended both hands and motioned at the deserted town, now decimated, thanks to Michael and his sword. “This is your purgatory.”
Chapter Eleven – Old Magic, New Problem
The magic that had flooded my body earlier drained out as if someone had pulled the plug. “Purgatory is for dead people.”
One of Zayfeer’s eyebrows raised slightly as he quirked his lips, egging me on to put two and two together.
Two and two added up to a number I didn’t like. “I’m…” I swallowed the thickness in my throat. “Dead?”
“I’m afraid my curse backfired. When you and Lucifer did the nasty…” He drew a finger across his throat in a cutting motion.
“I died because I had sex with the Devil?”
“I imagine there are worse ways to go.”
My fingers shook as I scrubbed my face again. I pushed to my feet and thought better of it when my knees gave out. I sank back down.
My legs were weak. My body spent. My brain hammered a sharp staccato inside my skull.
I couldn’t be dead. He must be playing me. “How do you know?”
He flicked the cigarette to the ground and tapped a finger against his temple. “I know, remember?”
Déjà vu. I’d died and gone to Hell before. Now I felt the same hollow sadness weighing me down. My bucket list was still a mile long. I hadn’t said goodbye to anyone. Who would take over the shop?
Emilia and Keisha would take care of things, of course. Didn’t make the idea of being dead any more palatable.
Just like the first time I’d died, some things didn’t ring true. And I wasn’t one to give up easily. “Why would I go to purgatory? Why wouldn’t I go straight to Hell?”
“Redemption, duh. God believes in it, you know. Apparently He believes in you as well.”
Same message, different messenger. Still wasn’t buying. “This isn’t the purgatory you climbed out of.”
“Hell and purgatory are different for everyone. So is redemption. By the looks of it, you fear being alone. Separation from those you love. Am I right?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “And then there are those ugly mommy issues. You think you’re to blame for her leaving, don’t you?”
Unexpected anger heated my cheeks. “That’s none of your business.”
He raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Relax. I’m not here to psychoanalyze your dysfunctional family. I have enough of my own family issues to deal with.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Good question.” His eyes became guarded. He looked around at the destruction. “My curse brought this on you, so I guess it’s my responsibility to atone for that.”
Intuition told me there was more to it. A lot more. “What is this curse you keep referring to?”
Shifting his sword out of the way, he sat next to me and ignored my question. “Look, all you have to do is admit your sins, survive purgatory’s holy fire purge—courtesy of Lucifer’s big brother Michael—and you’ll be headed for the pearly gates before you know it.”
“No way. No pearly gates. I want to go back to my life. On Earth.”
“Your life was screwing up Heaven’s plans. Even if my curse hadn’t backfired, there’s no way Michael was going to allow you to live much longer.”
“Allow me to live? Michael’s playing God now?” I stopped Z with a hand before he answered. All the archangels had a god complex. “What exactly are these plans I’m screwing up?”
“Cephiel didn’t explain any of this to you?”
Not that I remembered. “I don’t tend to listen to him.”
“Can’t say I blame you. He’s a bit Type A about all of this, and he’s not too happy he’s been assigned to you.”
“Makes two of us. I’d love it if Heaven and all you angels would leave me alone.”
“That’s where the rub comes. We can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
A confused frown pinched his forehead. He studied my face. “You really don’t know who you are, do you?”
“What is it with you angels and my name?” I punched a thumb into my chest. “Amy Atwood. Owner of Evie’s Ice Cream and Lucifer’s former right-hand witch, who is now trying hard to be good.”
Zayfeer chuckled, looked out at downtown Eden and made tsking noises. “Lucifer, you dog.” His studious gaze returned to my face. “He never told you the truth. But why?”
Annoyance burned in my chest. So did unease. “Tell me the truth about what?”
He stood and held out a hand. The hand with the sigil. “Come inside. I want to show you something.”
My eyes traced the sigil and a mental light bulb went on. It was the reverse image of the Mark of Cain. The Mark of Cain repelled black magic and evil and destroyed anyone or anything that might harm the bearer. What did the reverse of that mark do? “Your curse attracts evil, doesn’t it? You’ve had to fight every day in purgatory since Lucifer fell.”
Drawing back his hand, Zayfeer fingered his sword and started climbing the steps to the church’s front doors. “Come on, Broker. You need to see this.”
Hefting myself up on shaky legs, I followed him inside.
Chapter Twelve – A Painting’s Worth a Thousand Curses
Don’t go in the creepy church, Amy.
Despite the voice of reason, I stepped across the threshold and entered the dark, sinister vestibule of my purgatory’s Immaculate Conception.
In the real world of Eden, Immaculate Conception was a beautiful catholic church complete with gorgeous stained glass windows, beeswax candles and a large wooden cross behind the pulpit.
In my purgatory, IC was empty of all but the cross and the heavy air of repressed desires.
Following the echo of Zayfeer’s shoes, I entered the nave and caught my nonexistent breath as the stained glass windows and a dozen painted pictures became animated in front of my eyes. Saints, sinners, angels and demons played out scenes from the Bible in high def.
Turning in a circle to take in all the mini-movies, I stopped when I came to a picture with a red dragon in it. “What is this?”
Zayfeer ambled over and stood with me, watching the scene play out. “The Great War between God and Lucifer.” Michael appeared and Z’s face went slack. “‘Now war arose in Heaven, Michael and his angels fighting against the dragon. And the dragon and his angels fought back, but he was defeated and there was no longer any place for them in Heaven. And the great dragon was thrown down, that ancient serpent, who is called the Devil and Satan, the deceiver of the whole world – he was thrown down to the earth, and his angels were thrown down with him.’ Revelation 12, 7-9.”
Lucifer was the dragon pictured with seven heads and a crown on each head. Even as a dragon, he was beautiful. So beautiful, I stared.
“You’ll slay him in the end.” Z’s voice was matter-of-fact.
“Excuse me?”
“The dragon. It’s what you fear most. Lucifer and true love and all that Romeo and Juliet shit. He leaves you, you’re alone. Unloved. String the violins, yada, yada. But he’s your get-out-of-jail-free card. You slay the dragon, you’re topside before you know it.”
“Sounds very Arthurian.”
“You a King Arthur fan?”
“Only the Clive Owen version.”
Zayfeer quirked his head and one eyebrow.
The picture shifted and a pregnant woman appeared in the heavens, backlit by the sun and standing on top of the moon. A crown of stars circled her head and dozens of angels toppled from the clouds at her feet. Her features were plain and undistinguishable, but she wore a red robe. I glanced down at the sleeves of the robe I wore and saw the resemblance. As I watched, the dragon appeared and sat at her feet like a well-trained pet.
Her eyes, staring straight at me, turned ice blue.
Oh, crud. “Who is that?”
Zayfeer blew out a dramatic sigh. “This little tableau is what I was telling you about. Heaven’s plans. The dragon—a.k.a. my buddy Luc—is supposed to devour the child you give birth to because that child will otherwise alter the fate of the entire universe. But you’ve screwed up the balance of good and evil by making him give up his magic. No magic, no temptation, no sin. So now, as this picture depicts, your child will be born and he’ll cherish it as much as he cherishes you.”
Holy hot buttons. A child? I instinctively placed a hand on my lower abdomen. Not only did I blame myself for my mother’s abandonment and fear being alone, I was tormented by the idea that I would never have a family of my own. After all the evil I had done in my life, I didn’t deserve one.
“God is not happy,” Z continued. “And when God’s not happy, Heaven’s enforcer takes command.”
“Michael?”
“Yep.”
Zayfeer had to be messing with me. I was dead. This was purgatory. God or whoever was orchestrating this trip through limbo knew my hot buttons and was sledge-hammering them.
Dropping my hand from my stomach, I squared my shoulders. “What if I do have Luc’s baby? How will that change the universe?”
Z lit a fresh cigarette, gave me a respectful glance. “You and your child will redeem Lucifer. No more Hell. No more purgatory. And Heaven? Your child will rule it.”
“I don’t know what’s in that cigarette you’re smoking, but you’re killing brain cells.”
That annoying grin spilled across his face. “Don’t believe me, huh?” He cocked his chin at a painting behind me. “Have a look over there.”
A magnificent angel with gold-tipped wings bent over a grieving human woman. His wings encircled them both as if he were protecting her. His lips moved but no sound reached us. The woman looked up and I startled. My mother.
She was lovely. Long, brown hair flowing over her shoulders and down her back. Luminous brown eyes staring up at the angel with admiration and affection. Her skin reflected the light coming off him, making it glow a pretty peach color. A blush rose on her cheeks as he spoke to her.
This had to be another trick. “Who is that angel and what is he saying to her?”
“Just watch.”
My mouth went dry as the angel gathered my mother in an embrace. Her gaze dropped to his full lips and her own lips parted in response. He continued to speak, and after a minute, she nodded her head. The painting shifted and they were both naked in a breath-taking garden. Their embrace turned intimate. Too intimate for me. I looked away, tears burning my eyes.
“Your real father was an angel, not that human who left your mom before she even gave birth to you. But your true father wasn’t just any angel. He was…”
I didn’t want to hear this. It was too preposterous and I was tired, mentally and physically. “How do I get out of here, Zayfeer?”
Z’s face took on a look of strained patience. One I’d seen many times on Cephiel’s. “I told you. You have two options. Slay the dragon or survive Michael’s purge of your vices and swear to the Big Guy you’ll send Lucifer packing if He allows you to return to Earth.”
“That simple, huh?”
One shoulder shrugged as he scanned the other life-like movies playing around us. “I’ve been in purgatory for a hundred millenniums fighting off every kind of monster you can imagine. Seems like a picnic to me.”
“And what happens if I don’t break it off with Lucifer once I get topside?”
There was no drama in Z’s voice, no impatience, just fact. “Michael will take care of you.”
My lower abdomen twinged. I pressed a hand against it. “Screw Michael,” I said and headed for the church’s entrance.
Chapter Thirteen – Psycho Stalks Witch…Details at Eleven
The wooden doors of the church refused to budge. I pushed and shoved but they held firm.
Magic flowed from my hands to the heavy iron door handles. Open.
The next second, they flew apart and I stumbled out onto the steps.
Hey, this was purgatory. My Witches Anonymous oath was null and void here. At least that’s what I told myself.
Standing on the church steps, what met my eyes sent a shiver down my spine.
Downtown Eden had transformed into a forest. A dark, intimidating forest with a thousand trees. Their branches hung toward the ground and dense undergrowth rose up to meet them, obliterating all light. Things skittered and hissed in the darkness.
Michael the Archangel might have been the enforcer, but I was sure it was Michael Myers, the horror classic, who haunted those woods.
“Enough,” I said out loud, and then I called, “Luc! Where are you? I need help.”
Several seconds passed without a response. This time, I repeated the call mentally. Lucifer. I need you.
A minute passed.
Zayfeer exited the church and stood behind me. “Lucifer doesn’t like purgatory, remember?”
Fog rolled in from the edges of the woods, beckoning at me like it had done in the alley. “Tough shit. Luc!”
“He doesn’t possess the power to bring you back to life, I’m afraid. Only God can do that.”
The truth rang in my ears. I didn’t care. “I’ve died before and it wasn’t God who brought me back.”
“Are you sure about that?”
Forget Michael Myers. Dorothy of Wizard fame hadn’t needed the great and powerful Oz to send her back to Kansas. She only needed to believe in herself. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
I closed my eyes and summoned my magic. A solid wave of heat washed over me from head to toe. It hummed in my nerve endings, buzzed along my hairline.
Raising my hands, I drove tendrils of magic out from the tips of my fingers and welcomed the slithering fog that connected with them. A solid burst of power shot through my limbs and electrified the ends of my hair.
I wasn’t sure how to direct myself back to the land of the living, so I simply cleared my mind and let the magic do the work. I kinda dug the whole single word directives.
Return.
The burn of magic inside me came to an abrupt stop. A hollow sensation took hold in my stomach and spread to my arms and legs. Chills raced over my skin. The fog thickened, covering the woods and the sky grew dark as night.
“Nice try,” Zayfeer said, strolling down the steps to stand beside me. “I told you it wouldn’t…”
Return, dammit!
A sucking sensation lifted me off my feet and threw me backwards. The impression of traveling through a tunnel returned, intense pressure bearing down on me from all sides. By the time the pinpricks of pain hit, I knew what was happening. I didn’t struggle against the pain or paralysis. Instead, I welcomed it.
Kansas, here I come.
A minute later, I woke to the sound of Luc’s soft snores. One of his arms lay draped over my side as his body spooned around mine, spooning me in his protective heat. Cain slept tucked against my stomach and Abel warmed my feet.
My bed. My apartment. I drew a deep breath and a blast of satisfaction filled me as oxygen entered my lungs. The curtain on my bedroom window was open and moonlight filtered in, casting comforting shadows across the dresser and floor. Light snow fell outside. A couple more satisfying breaths and I snuggled deeper into the covers and Luc’s arms.
It was just a dream, I told myself. Just a terrible, no-good dream.
> Except it kept playing out on the back of my eyelids. My mother on the steps of the church. Her and the angel having sex. The dragon sitting at the pregnant woman’s feet. The odd fluttering in my abdomen.
Rubbing my hand across the spot, I sighed, knowing exactly what I had to do.
Chapter Fourteen – Witch, Interrupted
I rolled to my left side, careful not to kick Abel and patting Cain on the head when he mewed impatiently at the disturbance.
Luc’s face was relaxed in sleep. A chunk of dark hair hung across his forehead, making him appear boyish except for the fact his jaw was covered with stubble. A dark, wicked angel sleeping on my pink pillowcases. The marauder who’d long ago stolen my heart.
A familiar pang tweaked my chest. How many times had I watched him sleep, feeling a sense of safety I’d never felt with anyone, not even my family?
Family. The Atwoods gave new meaning to that word. “Luc?”
His snores stopped but his breathing continued soft and deep. I touched his cheek, ran my finger across his whiskered jaw. “Luc, wake up. We need to talk.”
Without opening his eyes, he reached for me and pulled me close. We lay face to face on his pillow, my body responding instinctively to his touch as he molded his long frame to mine. He was naked—big surprise—and so was I. The heat coming off his skin warmed my chilly body. I wanted to shut down my brain and let my body take control. My magic seconded that idea.
Warm fingers traced the vertebra of my spine, coming to rest low on my hip and tugging my pelvis against his.
Talk about hot.
And hard.
The skin on my forehead burned. Damn. Real world, real problems. The Mark of Cain was back.
Even though my body cheered at the contact, I shifted back an inch, hoping the space would help me keep a clear head…and the Mark would settle down before I sent Luc on another one-way trip to Hell.
The Devil slanted his eyes open and stared at my lips from under his long lashes. “Where are you going, witch?”
